


Christmas Spirits

by scruffandyarn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, Reader-Insert, drunken reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5592706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request:<br/>A story where readergets drunk on xmas&starts running around the bunker in a Santa hat ringing a bell yelling at the angels"you get wings you get wings you all get wings" I'm srry it just came to me and I just pls do this cx any pairing would be ok<3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Spirits

_”It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go.”_

 

The buzz you’d started working on an hour ago was getting more intense with every glass of eggnog you drank.  It didn’t help that you’d bypassed most of the meal Dean had cooked and had just contented yourself with getting tipsy.

“You are such a lightweight, ______.” Sam shook his head, smiling.

“M’not.” You pouted.  Still, the warm floating sensation was nice, and it didn’t really matter what Sam had to say.

“You wanna eat something?  I think there’s still a few rolls left.” Dean could pretend he was fine all he wanted to, but you just knew he had to be heading to your level of inebriation just based on how much he’d consumed.

“I wanna do something!” You pushed yourself to your feet, immediately having to grab onto the table in front of you to keep from face-planting.

“Do what?” Sam laughed.  “You can barely stand?”

“It’s _Christmas_ , you guys!  Religion and politics aside, it’s a time to party.  This is boring if it’s just the three of us!”

“Sugar, it’s not just the three of you anymore!” Gabriel entered the room, grinning.

Dean glared at you.  “Did you invite him?”

“Well, I was _longing_ for more fun, so maybe that’s what he picked up on.” You grinned.

“The fun has arrived, babycakes.”  Gabriel slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Now, it has.” Balthazar poofed in.  “Sorry I’m late.”

“Seriously, ______?” Sam looked at you.

“What?  You two are boring.”

“Right dreadful, aren’t they, love?”  Balthazar headed to the eggnog and poured himself a glass.  “Not bad.  I’m thinking we’re going to need some more of this, though.” A moment later, the table was covered in bottles of alcohol of all different shapes, sizes, proofs.

“Why do we need so–”

“Look who I brought!” Lucifer entered the room, his arm gripped tightly around Michael.

“Oh, this is turning into a party!”  You clapped in delight.

“I need some–oh.” Cas appeared, cocking his head to the side.  “I suppose I don’t need help, since this is where everyone has disappeared to.”

“Cas!” You disentangled yourself from Gabriel to wrap the newest arrival in a hug.  “Merry Christmas, Cas!”

“I don’t think you need to shout, ______,” Cas smiled.

“Right,” you whispered loudly.  “Sorry.”

Before long, the bunker was full of angels.  With each new arrival, Dean and Sam got crankier and crankier, but you didn’t care.  The alcohol coursing through your system made sure of it.

“What I don’ unner-sand…s’why you guys have no wings.” 

“I’ve explained this to you before, ______.” Cas sighed.  “We do have wings.  You just don’t have the ability to see them.”

You folded your arms across your chest.  “You say that, Cas, but I bet you don’ attually haf any.”  And that was not acceptable.  “I bet Santa could get you wings.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, smiling.  “Santa, huh?”  He snapped his fingers and a Santa had was now on your head.  “Looks like you can play Santa this year.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up in excitement.

“Why must you encourage ______?” Michael rolled his eyes.

“Because I’m adorable.” You grinned, earning a laugh from Lucifer.  You stood up from the couch and began your mission of getting wings for all the angels.

* * *

“Shit.” You flopped back on the tile of the bathroom floor, grateful for whoever thought to put a towel under your head so you wouldn’t split your skull open and die the day after Christmas.

“How are you feeling, ______?” Dean poked his head in to check on you.

“Like I’ve died and gone to hell.” You groaned.

“Not hell, ______.”

You looked over to see Lucifer crashed out in the bathtub.  “How’re you drunk?”

“Dunno.” He flashed a lopsided grin.  “Ask Balthy.”

“By the way, ______,” Dean smirked.  “Thanks for all the awesome pictures from last night.”

You slowly turned your head.  “Pictures?”

“Yeah.” He laughed.  “You went a little Oprah on us and started running around the bunker, screaming ‘you get wings, you get wings, you all get wings!’“

“What?”

“Made for a very entertaining evening.”  He winked and ducked out.

“You better destroy those pictures or you are dead to me, Dean Winchester!” Instantly, you regretted your shouting.

“Don worry, ______,” Lucifer slurred.  “I’ll help you take care of him.”

“Thanks.”  But that could come later.  Right now, you needed sleep.


End file.
